MILLIONS OF BRAZILIANS

Millions of Brazilians
Have witnessed all these scenes before
Paliamentary pantomime
Has locked down everybody’s doors
The army ringed now around London
Stock markets fall down through the floor
There’s no knowing where this leads us
The MPs bluster on, so sure
Their nationalistic reactions
Echoed loudly on radio four
Butterfly show goes on and on
No dreamliners fly anymore
We are told it’s for our own good
For the aged, for the poor
Evoke the spirit of the blitz
Best wishes from second world war
Spout about spiritual health
Whilst televising martial law
Soon round up any dissidents
Is that what this is really for?

Harri Rogers, in the red bedroom, Pencnwau, 19th March 2020

SEARCHING FOR A HANG

ON THE STREET WITH THE TRAMWAY FROM TAKSIM SQUARE

IT SEEMS THERE ARE MUSICIANS BUSKING EVERYWHERE

HALFWAY ALONG THE RAILS NEAR THE ADA BOOKSHOP BAR

FIFTEEN TURKISH FOLK SINGERS SING SONGS FROM ANKARA

THE SWEETEST SONG THAT NIGHT CAME NOT FROM ANY TONGUE

BUT FROM THE DULCET FINGERS OF SOME HIPPY WITH HIS HANG

ON A CARPET COVERED CUSHION OF YELLOW BLUE AND GREEN

THE HANG RESTED ON HIS KNEES LIKE AN UPTURNED SOUP TUREEN

A CROWD OF PEOPLE GATHERED AS HE WOVE HIS RHYTHMIC SPELL

EACH CAREFULLY CHOSEN NOTE CLEARER THAN A CHRYSTAL BELL

FAR FAR SWEETER SOUNDING THAN ANY BELL THAT EVER RANG

NOW EVER SINCE THAT NIGHT I’VE BEEN SEARCHING FOR A HANG

Copyright Harry Rogers – 17th October 2012 – Istanbul

Below Topkapi Palace Walls – the chilly dogz

This is The Chilly Dogz version of my poem Below Topkapi Palace Walls written during my holiday in Istanbul in October 2012.

BELOW TOPKAPI PALACE WALLS

The horse chestnuts are dropping conkers

Outside Topkapl Palace walls

Beautiful wooden houses

Frequented by queens

In the evening gently smoking

To Blue Mosque prayer calls

Across the way yet another ruined shack

With an Istanbul stray cat

Sit sitting from a small glass

One more Hot Apple Tea

Staring out from beneath the rim

Of that old battered tennis hat

It’s hart to believe that we’re all

So close to war in the 21sy century

They say this is the place

Where East and West collide

But wherever you come from

This just might be the perfect place to hide

Whilst waiting for the start of

A nuclear Winter bomb as it falls

Find me smoking apple aniseed hubble bubble

Outside Topkapi Palace walls

Yeah

Find me smoking apple aniseed hubble bubble

Outside Topkapi Palace walls

Copyright Harry Rogers – 18th October 2012

Jaki The Ladette

I wrote this initially as play on words around the the term Jack The Lad.  However, as I was writing it this story of damaged young women emerged into view.  I wasn’t going to write anything about that horrible person Savile but this just came out.  I then took it into a new app available on Google Chrome called Ujam to  see what it would sound like as a song.  Click the link below to hear the result, not perfect I know but something I can take to the band for us to play around with.

https://www.ujam.com/songs/hHSdXQkW6b6j

JAKI THE LADETTE

Here comes Jaki the ladette

With the ladders in her tights

She’s been out speeding

For one too many nights

 

In a mirror through the smoke

Her mascara’s gone streaky

But she don’t see the joke

Staring back so freaky

 

Tries to roll a cigarette

Can’t see what she’s making

Drops skins down the loo

Hands won’t stop shaking

 

Ooh Jaki Jaki Jaki

Jaki the ladette

Ooh Jaki Jaki Jaki

Jaki the ladette

 

Wobbling on stilettos

She staggers to the bar

Empties coins on the counter

Can’t tell what they are

 

Orders a vodka and red bull

She’s teetering on the edge

Her hair looks just like it’s

Been dragged through a hedge

 

But here is the strange thing

No matter how stoned she gets

She can’t stop remembering

Like an elephant never forgets

 

How that creepy disc jockey

The one with the monster cigar

Raped her in her fifteenth summer

In the back of his Rolls Royce car

 

Ooh Jaki Jaki Jaki

Jaki the ladette

Ooh Jaki Jaki Jaki

Jaki the ladette

 

Copyright: Harry Rogers 30/10/2012

THE GIRL IN THE GARNET COLOURED DRESS

I wrote this after thinking about children dying by accident in Palestine.  Marc Gordon and I recorded the video very quickly in his monthly guitar shop in Cardigan in our usual let’s bang it down straight away manner.  We are having fun doing these Tuesday session videos and it looks like we will get out and about for more in the coming months as I am retiring from wage slavery next weekend.

THE GIRL IN THE GARNET COLOURED DRESS

SUCH A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GIRL

IN HER GARNET COLOURED DRESS

THE PERFECT IMAGE OF SERENITY

CARRYING A PILE OF TABOON BREAD

 

FROM HER GRANDMOTHERS OVEN

GOLD COINS GLINTING ON HER CAP

SMILING AT LEMONS IN THE SUNSHINE

WITH ASSURED STILNESS OF HER HEAD

 

STOPPING BEFORE CROSSING THE ROAD

SHE CRUMPLES TO THE DUSTY GROUND

ANOTHER COLLATERAL OBSCENITY

AN ISRAELI RICOCHET LEAVES HER DEAD

 

ARE WE CRYING YET?

 

ARE WE CRYING YET?

 

ARE WE CRYING YET?

 

ARE WE?

 

Harry Rogers: Sunday 16th September 2012